


Here Comes the Sun

by cylobaby27



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky has a rough time, Healing, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, and people he loves back, but he's got people who love him, therapy dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When being Steve's best friend again isn't enough to heal Bucky after decades as the Winter Soldier, Steve decides to bring in <em>man's</em> best friend to do the job.</p><p>In which Steve gets Bucky a therapy dog, and Bucky is less than cooperative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Comes the Sun

There was a series of knocks on the door. "Bucky? It's Steve."

Rolling his eyes, Bucky hauls himself off the couch. "I've known you for almost a hundred years-- I can recognize your voice." He opened the door. Steve was wearing a gray cotton shirt and khakis, but even dressed down he looked better than Bucky did at the moment. In addition to sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, Bucky's hair was loose and greasy around his face. "Also," he continued, "you're the only one who knocks on my door."

Steve frowned. "Tony was supposed to come by to look at your arm earlier."

Bucky clenched his fist as Steve's gaze darted down to his metal arm. "Yeah, like I said. You're the only one who knocks."

"That does sound like Tony. Come on, dinner's ready."

Bucky had moved onto Steve's floor of Stark Tower nearly two months earlier. At least twice each day since then, Steve came by Bucky's room to drag him to the main kitchen for meals. 

The Avengers were an unpredictable group. For some, lunchtime was their breakfast. For others, dinnertime was their breakfast. Still, at least a handful of them showed up at seven for a group meal, usually made by Bruce, who was the only one who really cooked, or ordered in by Tony. They operated like a well-oiled machine, all ducking around each other and chatting and laughing. Bucky's scowling presence was a wrench in those cogs. Something didn't click right when he was there. 

When he had tried to explain to Steve that it was better for him to stay on their floor, Steve had put his foot down. "I don't make you come when we go out to eat or to the park. You haven't set foot outside the Tower in a month. You don't get to start eating by yourself too. You have to at least _try_." 

After that, Bucky had gone along when Steve came knocking. 

That night, Tony had ordered in Indian food. The plastic containers spread across the kitchen table-- which seated all seven of them with room to spare-- smelled of meats and spices. 

Steve had dove into the modern culinary variety with enthusiasm, bringing Bucky the spoils of his adventures; everything from pork buns to vegan sushi. 

On the other hand, food had been nothing more than a necessity to keeping the Soldier performing optimally for so long that Bucky still rarely felt the desire to eat. He tried everything that Steve put in front of him, but it tasted like so many variations of ash. 

Clint and Thor were in the kitchen getting drinks, while Natasha set a stack of plates on the table. She grabbed one for herself and then took a handful of naan from one of the containers. "Better hurry up, boys," she said. 

"Yeah, yeah," Clint said. 

He and Thor both picked up three glasses each, half of milk, half of beer, and headed for the table. Thor fumbled the third glass partway, nearly spilling it. 

Clint snorted. "You should have joined the circus instead of becoming a god. Maybe then you'd have some balance."

"You insult my people and my honor," Thor said good-naturedly, nudging Clint with an elbow. Of course, a bump from Thor was closer to a punch from a mortal, so Clint tipped sideways. He would probably have been able to balance himself if Bucky hadn't been passing him on his way to the table. 

Clint's weight slammed into Bucky's side, and cold liquid splashed onto his bare feet. 

There was a crash of shattering glass, and Bucky blinked. He had Clint pinned against the wall, right forearm against Clint's neck. There were voices in the background, but he stared blankly at his own arm and Clint's shocked face without understanding them. 

"Bucky!" Steve's solid presence was beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

With a shuddering gasp, he let go of Clint and stepped back. Clint slid to his feet, rubbing his throat and watching Bucky warily. Natasha was beside Clint almost immediately, ignoring the shattered glass, beer, and milk under her bare feet. She gave Bucky an assessing stare, reminding him that she had seen him back when the Winter Soldier was all he knew. 

"He didn't hurt me," Clint reassured her, though his hand was still stroking his throat. "You okay, man?"

Bucky shook his head faintly and took another step back. A splash of red on the white tile caught his attention, and he realized he was bleeding. Steve noticed at the same moment. "You must have stepped in the glass," he said, putting his arm around Bucky's shoulders. 

Shrugging him off, Bucky said, "I'll survive." He headed toward the kitchen door. "Sorry," he said quietly to Clint as he passed, but didn't stop to see if he responded. 

\-----

The bag swayed with each hit, the dull, steady thuds echoing in the empty room. Trust Tony Stark to have an entire floor of his Manhattan tower turned into a state-of-the-art gym. The bag had been designed to withstand Steve's punches, but Bucky's metal arm was more than sheer muscle. When the gears moved to straighten, nothing could stand in its way. He could punch straight through the enforced material. 

Bucky was trying very hard not to break the bag. 

Sweat soaked his cotton shirt, which meant he must have been down there for hours, but he felt no calmer.

The gym door opened, but he ignored it. He recognized the footsteps without needing to turn around for confirmation. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, hitting the bag soundly, making it swing back. 

Steve didn't bother pointing out his hypocrisy. "Clint's fine."

"Oh, really?" Bucky grunted sarcastically. He had seen the bruise forming on the archer's neck before he'd left the kitchen. 

Steve came to stand by the punching bag, but Bucky studiously ignored him. "You know that if he had felt threatened, you wouldn't have pinned him so easily. He knew you wouldn't hurt him."

"Clint Barton," Bucky replied, "jumps off buildings without a parachute and just hopes it will work out. I'm pretty sure he's missing a sense of self-preservation."

"He hasn't hit the pavement yet," Steve pointed out. Bucky didn't reply. "Will you look at me?" Steve asked, his voice growing sharp. 

Bucky whirled on him, catching the bag with one arm to steady it. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. 

"I want to make sure you're not beating yourself up over what happened." The blonde man's jaw had a determined set, but his eyes were soft. Steve's body may have been taller and more sculpted than it was in some of Bucky's memories, but the eyes were the exact same. The bright blue reminded Bucky of home.

"I mean, what do you want from me? What do you think will happen with me staying here?" Bucky asked. His breath, which had remained steady throughout his workout, was becoming unsteady. 

Steve paused, and then repeated, "I want to make sure you're not beating yourself up over what happened."

Bucky froze, and then let out a bitter laugh. "Don't hold your breath." He shook his head. "I'm not who you think I am. Whoever you knew, that person is gone. I'm a weapon." Whatever flashes of memory he had gotten of two boys in Brooklyn, it was buried by decades of slaughter. "They took whoever you knew and they destroyed him." 

"You were a weapon," Steve agreed. "But you were also my best friend. Maybe you're not my friend anymore, but you're also not just a weapon anymore. No one deserves to be reduced to that."

"If I'm not your friend, why do you care?"

Sighing, Steve said, "You might not remember much about who you were, but I do. We promised to always be there for each other. You would never have left me out in the cold, even if I had forgotten everything about you. Bucky Barnes was my best friend. No matter who you are now, I'm going to do everything I can to help you, because I owe that to our friendship."

"And if I'm beyond help?" The words seemed to echo in the quiet room.

"You agreed to come live here. You found me, not the other way around. That means somewhere inside you, you want to move past what was done to you. The Bucky I knew was the most stubborn bastard I'd ever met. I'd bet on you."

And he had. By bringing a notorious assassin into the heart of the Avengers Initiative, Steve was putting his team at risk. The team didn't act like they were alarmed by Steve's decision, but again, Bucky wasn't sure any of them had self-preservation instincts. They were cautious around him the way that people were wary of feral animals. Like he was dangerous, but not malicious. 

Maybe they were right. Pierce had treated him like an animal too, one that could be set on his enemies and then subdued and caged afterward. 

"You might end up regretting that," Bucky told him. 

Steve met his eyes. "I've regretted a lot of things. This won't be one of them."

Bucky let himself be bullied into going to bed, unable to look at the trust and sympathy in Steve's blue eyes any longer. When the nightmares woke him up only hours later, he stayed in his dark room, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember being the man that had earned so much loyalty.

\----

After their conversation, Bucky expected Steve to be around even more, trying to 'fix' him. However, at seven the next night, he realized that Steve hadn't come knocking at the usual time to collect Bucky for dinner. Thinking about it, he realized he hadn't been dragged out for lunch either. Maybe their conversation the night before had changed Steve's mind about helping his old friend. Quashing the swell of disappointment that rose him at the thought, Bucky told himself that it would be for the best for everyone if the Avengers kept their distance from the Winter Soldier. 

He stayed on his floor, bouncing the stress ball Sam Wilson had given him against the wall, for another hour before a worrying thought struck him.

Maybe the Avengers were on a mission that had gone south. Steve could be out there somewhere, bruised and bloody, while Bucky remained secluded in the Tower. 

A wave of protective concern washed over him, bringing forward a memory of pacing the back alleys of Brooklyn, trying to track down the scrappy blonde kid who didn't know when to back away from a fight. Steve was going to get himself killed without Bucky to look after him. 

The memory was irrelevant now. Steve was far from helpless, and Bucky was far from helpful. 

Even so, he found himself in the elevator to the main floor. 

When he left the elevator, it became immediately clear that the Avengers were still safe at home. Though considering how loudly they were arguing, 'safe' might have been a stretch. He hesitated by the elevator doors, unwilling to walk into the middle of a fight. 

"We're in Manhattan," Stark was saying. "We are in Manhattan in a giant, state-of-the-art tower-- my tower, by the way. It's fifty floors down and two blocks over to the nearest patch of grass. How is this a good idea?"

"I've done my research," Steve shot back. "This is absolutely a good idea."

"We're talking about a guy who doesn't remember to feed himself unless someone puts a plate under his nose," Stark retorted. 

Bucky took a step back, suddenly sure he knew who the argument was about.

Steve's jaw clenched. "Like the same isn't true for you."

Stark threw his hands up. "Exactly! And who on earth would ever think it's a good idea to put me in charge of a living creature?"

Bucky turned and pressed the button to call for the elevator again. Whatever they were deciding to do with him, he didn't want to find out yet. 

"I think it's a great idea," Banner said from the couch. "It could be good for him."

"Shut up, you're not even a real doctor," Stark replied, waving dismissively. 

The elevator dinged to signal its arrival, but as the doors opened, there was the clicking sound of something hard hitting the wooden floors rhythmically, and Bucky turned instinctively toward the noise. 

A golden retriever trotted toward him, dark brown eyes meeting his unflinchingly. It was fully grown, but was smaller than most dogs of the breed Bucky had seen. Then again, he had never been close enough to pet one before. The dogs in Brooklyn and over in occupied Europe had all been mutts. After that, animals hadn't tried to approach him. 

Instinctively, Bucky dropped to his haunches and held out his right hand. The dog's tail, which had been wagging slowly, picked up speed, and it pushed its head under his hand. Its fur was silky soft, and gleamed the color of warm caramel in the tower's bright lights. Bucky scratched its head, making sure to be gentle. The dog's face melted into a pleased expression, and its eyes drooped closed. 

The room had fallen silent. Bucky looked up to see Stark, Steve, and Banner all staring at him. Quickly, he stopped petting the dog and stood up, though it looked up at him with disappointed eyes. When he gave it an apologetic shrug, the dog huffed and flopped to the floor at his feet. 

Stark groaned. "Goddamn it. Fine, it can stay. If I send it away now, I'll seem like a monster."

Steve grinned at him. "You would have let her stay anyway," he said confidently. 

"Steve, you bought a dog?" Bucky asked.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Steve smiled and said, "I actually bought you a dog."

"I..." Bucky looked back down at the dog at his feet. It was falling asleep, seemingly content to rest at his feet. "Are you insane?"

Steve's smile dropped. "What?"

"Come on, Tony. Weren't you going to show me that thing in the lab?" Bruce said, rising from the couch. 

"What, no, this is getting interesting," Tony protested, even as Bruce ushered him out of the room. Bucky noticed that, though the lab was two floors down, they didn't try to take the elevator behind Bucky. 

When they were gone, Bucky took a step away from the dog and said, "Steve, you can't just buy people dogs."

"I'm not buying 'people' a dog. I got one for you," Steve protested. 

"Stark was right. I'm not exactly an ideal pet owner," Bucky said. 

Steve shook his head. "Look, I know you've been going through a rough time. I was talking to Sam about it--"

"Do you do that a lot? Talk about fucked up I am to all of your friends?"

"I was talking to Sam about it, who works with soldiers with PTSD all time," Steve continued, "and he mentioned that several people he knows have found therapy dogs to be really helpful."

"Therapy dogs?"

Steve clenched his jaw. "You haven't been cooperating with any of the human therapists we've tried."

"Because I can't be fixed, Steve," he snapped. 

"You don't need to be fixed," Steve said. "But you do need something."

"So you decided that something was a dog."

"You don't want my help. You don't want anyone's help. But I can't just sit around while you keep spiraling down. Maybe the dog will help, maybe it won't. But you're going to try this."

Bucky folded his arms. "Or what, you'll kick me out?" He'd been waiting for this ultimatum. In fact, he was surprised it had taken this long. 

"Or you're moving into my room. And you're going to stick with the next therapist Sam suggests for the long haul." Steve sighed. "Just take care of the dog for a few weeks, okay? See what happens."

Bucky shook his head. "You really trust me with an animal? Stark was right-- no one should trust me with another living thing. Let her go to someone who can really use the help."

"Lady-- that's her name-- was trained to be a service dog, but she couldn't pass the final test. If she doesn't stay here, she'll end up just being someone's house pet."

Bucky glanced down at the pile of golden fur at his feet. "Why'd she fail?"

"She's afraid of elevators and thunder. Also, cotton candy. When I spoke to her trainer, he said that she needed someone who could support her when she needs it. You'd be helping each other."

"You realize that we live on the fifty-second floor, right? Elevators are a vital part of this building."

"So you'll have to help her get over her fear."

"...Cotton candy?"

Steve smiled softly, looking down at the dog. "The trainer assured me that it wasn't the weirdest hang-up they'd run into. Just be careful taking her to the circus."

As though she knew he was making fun of her, Lady opened an eye and raised her head to glance up at Steve. Deciding he wasn't worth the effort, she sighed heavily again and flopped back onto the floor. 

Bucky couldn't help laughing softly. "She's really mine?"

Steve nodded. "So you'll give it a shot?"

"Guess I don't really have a choice," Bucky said. 

"Come on," Steve replied. "I picked up some supplies for her. Let's let her look around our floor."

\---

Lady quickly made herself at home on their floor. Steve went around tying scarves on all of the doorknobs so she would be able to wander freely, and not end up accidentally trapped in a room. 

Bucky watched her sniff around the TV room Stark had arranged, though Steve and Bucky rarely used it. 

Between nearly every new piece of furniture Lady discovered, she bounded back over to Bucky and wagged her tail so hard that she seemed ready to burst out of her fur. 

"Keep going," he told her, unable to hold back a smile as she raced toward the leather sofa. 

Bucky spent most of his time on their floor in his own room, away from the areas he shared with Steve. With Lady running around, though, the entire area seemed more welcoming. 

"She's got a lot of energy," Steve commented. "Reminds me of you."

"I was never that hyperactive," Bucky defended himself. Even if he couldn't remember everything, he knew he hadn't been as absurd as the golden retriever. 

"One summer when I was in a healthy period, we saved up some money and took the train down to Coney Island for a day. That was the first time you'd ever been to the beach. We both got so sunburned we could barely move the next day, but you looked like that the whole time," Steve said, nodding at Lady, who had moved on to explore the stack of game consoles. 

"Sure I did," Bucky snorted, but didn't argue further. 

"We should go back sometime," Steve suggested. 

Bucky glanced over at him, but his gaze was focused on the dog. "Maybe," Bucky allowed, though the thought of the crowds made him tense. It was worth it for the pleased smile Steve sent him. 

\----

Among his other purchases, Steve had given Lady a plush bed, complete with three stuffed animals for her to chew on. 

Making sure she was settled, worn out from their trip outside, he crawled under his own blanket. Stark-- or a hired decorator-- had furnished the entire tower, which meant the bed was larger and plusher than anything Bucky could remember having slept in. The soft surface was like a cloud, enveloping him no matter how he laid. 

He hated it. 

Instead, he had dragged the fluffy comforter onto the floor between the bed and the wall, keeping the bulk of the bed between him and the door. 

The Winter Soldier had rarely needed sleep, and the hours he had managed to steal outside of his cryogenic freeze took place tucked in the smallest, darkest corners he could find. 

He sighed, trying to let sleep overtake him. It was a long time coming. 

_The initially cold metal table under him had grown heated over the course of the past day, but he felt cold deep in his bones. They had taken so much blood from him that he wasn't sure he'd survive another needle._

_When he had heard the horrified whispers about Nazi POW camps, he had imagined hard labor and near starvation. The idea of that had been distasteful, but he could have gritted his teeth and survived._

__

No one had warned him about the torture. 

__

He didn't know what they were injecting him with, but it felt like his veins were filled with liquid fire. It should have killed him, but he always woke up eventually. He wished he wouldn't. 

Suddenly, the fire was replaced with ice, and he was strapped to another table. He couldn't remember what he had been doing before that moment, but he recognized the room and the nurses around him. He always ended up back here between the flashes of deep cold and the warm weight of a rifle. 

_They were going to send him back into the darkness. Back into the empty space. He wanted to escape, but his body remained still and compliant._

_Even when they started sawing at his arm, replacing his metal limb in a spray of blood and sparks, he couldn't move to fight them away._

_He was never going to stop being strapped down._

_They sawed deeper, cutting into his flesh as easily as the metal, and he would never escape, he would never--_

Flailing upright, ripping the restricting blankets away, he rolled to his feet. 

Panting hard, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. There was something breathing near by, getting closer. His metal hand clenched into a fist, and his legs tensed. 

A faint whine cut through the room's stillness, and Bucky looked up. Lady was standing on the bed above him, staring down at him. 

When he recognized her, his breath left him in a rush and he collapsed back onto the floor. 

Tail wagging hard enough to thump against the mattress, Lady paced back and forth once, and then crawled onto the floor beside him, settling by his side. She sat with her weight pressed against his side, like she had nothing better to do than just be in his presence. 

After a few minutes of staring blankly at the ceiling, Bucky's breathing slowed again. "You know," he said quietly, "you've got a fancy bed that Steve got just for you. You don't have to stay with me."

Lady lay down with a huff, stretching out and pressing her full length against his side. 

"I might hurt you," he whispered, the idea making him lose his breath for another second. 

Lady opened an eye and looked over at him as though asking why he was keeping her awake. 

"Your funeral," Bucky murmured, already falling back asleep. 

\--

The concrete stairs were hard under his shoes, even with the modern cushioning on the bottom. The rhythmic slap of his feet as he jogged upward was comforting in a way that music could never be. Every beat was proof that he was still there, still interacting with the world around him. 

Not a ghost. 

The weight of the dog dangling in his grasp helped ground him as well. 

By the time they reached the fiftieth floor, Lady was squirming to be put down. "This wouldn't be an issue if you would just get in the elevator," Bucky told her, setting her down so she could enter their floor. 

"Did you just carry that dog up the stairs?" 

Bucky looked up and found Clint sitting at the kitchen counter. It wasn't an unusual spot for him, since he liked to be perched where could see everyone, though he was usually in the main area rather than on Steve and Bucky's floor. 

"She's afraid of elevators," Bucky explained. The dog had approached Clint with a wagging tail, and he acquiesced to scratch her head. Seeing that Lady had given Clint's presence her approval, Bucky walked into the kitchen to refill Lady's water bowl rather than heading directly for a safer room.

"So you carried her up fifty flights of stairs? You could have just carried her in the elevator."

Bucky shrugged. "She walked the first ten, but she got tired."

"You've only had the dog for like three days, and she's already got you whipped," Clint said, but he was still petting her. 

Crossing his arms, Bucky leaned against the counter across from Clint. When the archer just kept his attention on Lady, Bucky raised his eyebrows. "Steve's out," he said pointedly. 

"Yeah, Tony said he was dragging him to a tailor. Apparently the voice of the Avengers needs to look sharper at press conferences, and the full uniform was just ridiculous." Clint grimaced. "I'm pretty sure Tony's got his eye on me and Bruce next. For someone who spends 90% of his time in shirts that are more engine grease than fabric, he spends a lot of time worrying about lapels and chalk stripes."

Bucky snorted. "Sounds like you do too," he pointed out. 

"I'm dating the sharpest-dressed man in the city. Even I was bound to pick up something," Clint replied.

Though they had only met a handful of times, Phil Coulson had left an impression on Bucky. He couldn't meet anyone who had worked with SHIELD who hadn't heard of the Winter Soldier, but Coulson was the first person who had seemed just as knowledgeable about Bucky's youth. The offhand way he rattled off the names and ranks of everyone in the Howling Commandos made Bucky had made it seem like Coulson had been the one living among their ranks, since Bucky could barely remember his old teammates. The man was also one of the few people who weren't skittish around him. Even Maria Hill, the fierce woman who now worked with Stark and occasionally came by the tower, kept a wary eye on Bucky. 

Seeing Clint and Coulson together gave Bucky a glimpse of modern homosexuality. Rather than being in dark corners at seedy bars and alleys, it was casual brushes and warm smiles everywhere the group kitchen to the middle of Times Square (not that either agent ever went through tourist central without a good reason). 

"Where is Coulson? For that matter, where's your shadow?"

"Coulson and Nat are both down in D.C., still putting out the fires from SHIELD's collapse," Clint said. "They get called down every few weeks, even now."

It had been nearly a year since Steve and Bucky had fought inside a burning helicarrier, but the effects of HYDRA's emergence were still being felt across the world. 

Sometimes Bucky forgot that he wasn't the only person who had had to build a new life after that day. 

Satisfied that Clint had given her enough attention, Lady trotted back to Bucky and melted to the ground in front of him, her weight resting on his boot-clad feet. 

"That dog looks pretty attached," Clint said, nodding at the pile of fur. 

Bucky shrugged. 

"Dogs are usually good judges of character," he continued. 

Jaw clenching, Bucky said, "Guess everyone makes mistakes."

Clint shook his head. "I think she's right." He paused for a long moment, eyes seeming to x-ray Bucky, who wondered just what the archer was seeing. "I know what it's like to be used as a weapon," he said finally. "I know what it's like to be to be a tool someone uses to make you hurt the people you love." He sighed. "At this point, there are more people in this tower who have killed people while out of their right minds than there are clean hands."

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Just how common is this nowadays?"

Clint's lips twitched. "I don't think this tower is a good sampling of the world."

"And here I was promised flying cars in the future," Bucky drawled. 

With a laugh, Clint replied, "Tell that to Tony. If you make it a challenge, you'll be flying in no time."

Rubbing at his metal arm, he said, "I've learned that he doesn't back down from a challenge."

Tony had given it a tune-up that made it feel lighter and stronger, but he hadn't let the mechanic switch out the entire thing. It was welded into his shoulder, and replacing it would likely involve anesthesia and far more vulnerability than he ever wanted to feel again. In an attempt to convince Bucky to change his mind, Tony had taken to leaving blueprints out in the main kitchen (though Bucky knew full well that he normally only designed them digitally). Bucky had caught Steve flipping through them occasionally. 

"It has its perks," Clint assured him. He checked the clock over the oven. "I've got to head out."

Bucky frowned. "You never got to see Steve," he said. 

"Wasn't here for Steve," Clint replied, hopping off his stool and heading for the door. "Later, Buck, Lady."

Once he was gone, Bucky looked down at the dog. "Hm," he said. 

\---

Lady was running low on the dog food that Steve had purchased, so late one Saturday afternoon, Bucky hooked a leash on Lady and walked down the long flight of stairs that was quickly becoming familiar to him. He had taken her out dozens of times for short walks around the block and for bathroom breaks. Leaving the Tower no longer made him short of breath. All things considered, today should have been no different. 

At this point, Bucky should have taken that as a sign that things would go wrong. 

It was late April, which meant it was finally warm enough outside to make the walk enjoyable. The streets were crowded, but there was never a day Midtown wasn't full of people. Bucky didn't know why Tony hadn't just built his Tower down in the Financial District where everyone seemed to be moving these days, but at least they weren't right at Times Square. 

Lady was unfazed by the people bustling around, but by the time Bucky had purchased the 40-pound bag of dog food, he could feel his shoulders tensing. Carrying the bag under one arm and holding Lady's leash with the other, Bucky made his way back through the sidewalks. People jostled him as they passed, and each touch made him tense further. There were just so many people, and no cover for him to take. 

As an assassin, he had used crowds like this to stalk his targets, who never saw the hunter mixed with the sheep. A quick brush with a knife and he could snuff out a life. 

Anyone here could be after him. He would never even see it coming. 

Breathing more quickly, Bucky looked for an alley, a threshold, something that he could put his back to and reassess the situation. Spotting an alcove on the edge of the sidewalk, Bucky turned and started walking toward it. 

Suddenly, there was a crash of metal from the street, and Bucky raced for cover, dropping the dog food in favor of drawing a knife from the sheath in his cargo pants. He dodged between people, the adrenaline making it seem like everything else was moving in slow-motion. Lady was at his side, but the other humans had barely reacted to the noise. Finally pressing his back to the safety of the brick wall, Bucky held the knife out in front of him and scanned the perimeter. 

A cab had rear-ended a UPS truck. A few spectators were milling, but most people seemed more concerned with giving Bucky wide berth. Both drivers were getting out of their vehicles. The cab driver had a stripe of blood on his forehead, but it didn't stop him from yelling loudly in Farsi. 

The laugh that escaped Bucky caught him by surprise, as did the fact that it quickly turned into hyperventilating. He was surgically enhanced beyond normal humans to cope with stress and shock. This should have been child's play. 

But he was here in New York with Steve and trying so hard to become someone Steve could love, and he couldn't even handle walking four blocks without having a meltdown. 

Keeping a grip on his knife, Bucky let his head fall back and hit the brick wall, wondering if he could bash his own skull in hard enough to stop the mess his thoughts were making. 

Something cold nudged his hand, his flesh hand, and a small whine broke through his haze. A steady weight pressed against his leg, and he looked down. Lady was looking up at him from where she had taken a seat by his side, waiting for him. 

He opened his palm, and she nudged her head upward so his hand was resting on her head. 

She was alive. He was alive. They were there together, and even if he was broken beyond repair, she needed him to pull himself together. He rubbed a hand over her soft fur, the motion calming him. 

Slowly, he stood up straight, sliding his knife back in its sheath. Someone had probably called the cops on him for showing the weapon in the first place, and he wanted to get clear of the area before they showed up. 

The bag of dog food had survived the fall, battered but not broken. Taking a deep breath, Bucky tucked it under his arm once more and continued home.

\----

"Lady needs to hang out with more people. If she stays up on our floor all the time, she might start getting nervous with bigger groups," Steve said. 

They were sitting in the small park beside the Tower, which was really more of a grass-covered curb than a true park, watching the dog sniff around. She was on a long retracting leash, but Bucky wasn't worried about her running off. She couldn't stand five minutes without double-checking he was where she had left him. After the last time they had gone out alone together, Bucky couldn't blame her.

Bucky paused. "Sounds like you have a plan," he said.

Steve laughed, and the sound danced with self-mockery. "Haven't you heard? I'm the Man with the Plan."

Considering that, head tilted back to soak in the early spring sunshine, Bucky replied, "You're more like a man with a goal. The plan could change as long as it got you where you needed to go." He glanced over at Steve. He looked gorgeous with the sunlight catching the blonde highlights in his hair. "Basically, you're a stubborn bastard."

"Takes one to know one, Buck," Steve said. "So about having Lady meet more people..."

"See? Stubborn bastard," Bucky said, not entirely joking. 

Pressing on, Steve said, "You should come to Movie Night."

Movie Night had achieved capital-letter status in Bucky's mind a month earlier when he had seen, from a shaky news camera, the Hulk violently smash an alien spaceship into small pieces and then shout at the camera, "NO ONE INTERRUPT PAC RIM."

The team met once a week, usually on Sundays but varying when needed, to crowd around the oversized TV on the main floor to watch a movie. Steve had explained that the tradition had been started to help catch him up on pop culture, but had become a bonding ritual. 

Bucky stayed in his room on Sundays. 

"Dogs don't watch movies," Bucky said flatly. "I don't think she'd appreciate it. There's the whole color-blind thing."

"Movie Night is more than that and you know it," Steve argued. "And Tony's been complaining that he hasn't gotten to play with her since she got here."

Bucky shook his head. "He didn't even want her."

"He talks big, but he's got a soft heart," Steve said. 

"That seems to be a theme with you guys."

"You're not so rough yourself," Steve said, smiling at him. 

"Steve," Bucky said, the word almost choking him. "Don't think that I'm soft."

Smile fading, Steve said, "It's not an insult."

Bucky shook his head. "You can't think that I'm safe. You shouldn't trust me. Don't let your guard down around me. We don't know that the Soldier is gone," he said, tapping his temple. 

"You can't hurt me," Steve told him, and Bucky snapped. 

"I almost killed you," he snarled. "I was a loaded gun pointed at your head, and the trigger had been pulled. It was sheer luck that you aren't at the bottom of the Potomac." He was painfully conscious of the New Yorkers walking past the small park, unaware how close they were to a time bomb.

"It wasn't luck," Steve argued, and his blue eyes were so trusting and sure that Bucky wanted to scream, wanted to break him just to teach him that he was wrong to trust a weapon.

Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides and said, "Do you know why I came here?" Part of him wanted to avert his gaze, but he wasn't the subservient tool strapped to a chair anymore. He could make Steve listen to him. 

"To the Tower?"

Bucky hadn't said much when he'd arrived on Stark's doorstep after the Avengers had spent months fruitlessly searching for him. Steve hadn't needed to know. He had seen Bucky's face, his open hands, and had welcomed him in. 

"You needed help," Steve said softly. "A place to stay, someone who wasn't trying to control you."

"No," Bucky said, the words firm and cold so Steve couldn't misinterpret them. "I came because I knew you could control me. If I become...that again, you are the only one who could put me down." Sensing his emotional state, Lady came trotting back to him, sitting down beside the bench. His right hand tangled in her fur immediately, grounding him. 

Bucky expected Steve to be angry that he had used their old friendship to make Steve take him in, but the edge in Steve's voice came for another reason. "Don't say that. You're not some animal. If someone takes control of you again, they'll be the person I go after and take out."

"And if I'm hurting people again?" 

"You know, when we first found out about you, Sam said that you couldn't be saved. That you just had to be stopped. But he was wrong. Everyone underestimates you, Buck, but I don't. The good in you is stronger than the wrong done to you."

The Winter Soldier was a fine-tuned weapon with muscles honed to optimization, bones that could withstand several tons of force, and a mechanical arm that was a lethal force on its own. At that moment, though, Bucky felt like a stray breeze could shatter him. Only the warmth of Lady under his fingers and the firm acceptance in Steve's gaze were keeping him together.

"I don't want to hurt anyone else," he said, voice wavering. 

"Let's make a deal," Steve said. "You focus on taking care of yourself, and I'll worry about protecting everyone else. Trust me to do that." 

Hesitating, he confirmed, "You won't let me kill anyone."

"I won't let you kill anyone," Steve agreed. "If that's what you need me to do, I can promise to do that."

Bucky nodded. 

"You can try new things, you can let yourself get out of your comfort zone. I'll have your back."

"To the end of the line," Bucky said softly. He took a deep breath. "You're still dragging me to Movie Night, aren't you."

"Yep."

\----

Lady planted her feet, claws skidding across the hardwood as she came to a halt beneath Bucky's hand. Shoulders hunched, she turned her face as though trying to disappear. When tugged another inch forward, a quiet whine cut through the air. 

"You do realize you've been sleeping for the last few weeks lying on top of an assassin with violent nightmares, right?" Bucky said gruffly, hand stilling. "Of everything in this Tower, the elevator is what scares you? Christ."

Even before the war, Bucky could have carried the small golden into the elevator with no effort. The look on her face, the look that said that Bucky was betraying her trust, made him hesitate. 

"We're both doing stuff we don't want to do tonight," he told her. "This isn't so bad."

The elevator doors started to close automatically behind him, so he stuck out a foot backward to stop them. "Hey, JARVIS? Can you keep these open for a minute?"

"Of course, sir," the cultured voice of Tony's AI replied.

Bucky let go of Lady's scruff and walked into the elevator, making sure to keep the set of his shoulders relaxed. Considering how off-balance he felt about the upcoming movie night, it was a difficult feat. Turning and crouching, he held an inviting hand out to Lady, who was skulking by the door. "C'mon, girl. It's not so scary in here." He kept his voice low and soothing, and his palm stretched out flat. 

Lady whined again, unwilling to leave him, but unable to enter the small space. 

"Don't you trust me?" he asked, a small, bitter smile twisting his lips. 

To his surprise, Lady looked at him and slowly took a step toward the elevator. 

"C'mon," he encouraged. 

She took one more slow step, bringing her over the threshold, and then she barreled forward into his arms, so enthusiastically that he would have lost his balance had he been anything less than he was. 

"Good girl," he said, rubbing her soft ears. 

"What floor?" inquired JARVIS as the doors slid closed. 

"The team's floor," Bucky told him, keeping his face close to Lady's so she wouldn't realize that the doors were shut. "We're going to Movie Night."

\----

On the battlefield, the Avengers were an unstoppable force. Bucky had watched them overcome insurmountable odds. Everyone had learned that when you earned the Avengers' wrath, they would stop you come hell or high water. Though they worked best together, each one alone had the strength of will and steely determination needed to take down an army. 

Bucky would have guessed that it would take more than a pair of chocolate eyes and a wagging tail to reduce them all to mush, but he would have been wrong. 

The Avengers were sprawled around the living room. Bruce and Natasha were sharing a couch, with Clint sitting on the back with his legs resting on the third cushion. Tony and Thor shared full couch. Thor may have had more bulk, but Tony unwound like a snake, stretching from one end to the other. Thor ignored the inventor's limbs intruding on his space, seeming content to act as a leg rest. Steve was noticeably absent. 

Lady paused at the entrance of the living room, still close to Bucky's side after their elevator ride. She glanced up at him, and he nodded toward the superheroes. Whole body wagging along with her tail, Lady bounded toward the nearest couch, shimmying past just long enough for everyone to run a hand over her fur before she went to the other couch. 

Tony held a languid hand out for Lady to duck under, but he snorted a laugh when she stuck her nose in his face, bumping his cheek. "Hey, mutt," he greeted.

"No, don't pick that couch," Clint complained, clapping his hands to get Lady's attention. 

She pranced back to Clint, who slid down onto the couch so he could reach her. 

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, watching Lady nearly vibrate out if her skin in her enthusiasm to meet everyone. 

"She seems to be doing well," Bruce commented as Lady trotted back to the other couch. "She doesn't get too stir-crazy inside all day, does she?"

"I take her for walks twice a day," Bucky replied when he realized Bruce was waiting for an answer. "She's not usually this energetic."

"She seems a fine companion," Thor declared, petting her. His hand dwarfed her head, but he was gentle with his ministrations. "There is a brave spirit in this one."

Tony was examining the blue collar Steve had bought her, rubbing it between his fingers. "This material is shit," he said. "Look, it's dented her fur." 

"Collars are supposed to be snug," Clint argued. "That way if she gets lost, she won't accidentally slip out of it."

"How is she going to get lost?" Tony said. "She only goes out with super soldiers, and she lives in an AI-monitored tower."

"If everything was that easy, the world wouldn't need us," Natasha pointed out. 

"At least let me make her something better," Tony plowed on. "I've been updating the materials in everyone's uniforms to weigh less, wick away sweat, withstand bullets and knives--"

Clint snorted. "Maybe you should just make her a whole suit."

Tony's eyes lit up, and Bucky shook his head. "No."

"Just because you're stubborn and won't let me update your arm doesn't mean Lady should be subjected to stone age technology too," Tony said, unsnapping Lady's collar and looking at it more closely. 

The mention of the weapon welded onto his body made Bucky tense, his fingers curling automatically into fists. Tony was engrossed in the fabric, but the rest of the room watched Bucky. He wondered if they realized how obvious their tension was, even with their casual glances. He had been trained to read people quickly and accurate through a sniper's scope, and knew they were prepared to stop him if he tried to hurt their resident mad genius. 

"If you want an Iron Dog, you'll have to make one yourself," he told Tony. 

Attention received, Lady padded back to Bucky, sitting by his side and leaning slightly into him. He scratched her head, and then let his hand drop to feel the compressed area where the collar had been resting. He sighed. "Just don't make the collar do weird shit, okay? If JARVIS starts translating her barks, we're going to have an issue."

"Don't give him ideas," Steve said, coming into the room beside him. He held up a large bag. "Delivery. Usual orders. Bucky, I got you the beef fried rice. It's great; you'll love it."

Bucky shrugged, but Lady looked up at the greasy bag from Dragon and Phoenix with interest. 

"Come on," Steve continued, gesturing to the love seat on the other side of the couches. "You can't see the screen from the door."

Bucky and Steve sat down together as the other Avengers passed around Chinese take-out containers and chopsticks, and Lady plopped to the ground at Bucky's feet. The love seat was smaller than the couches, leaving their thighs pressed together. Bucky was struck with a faint memory of other times he had been beside Steve, breathing in the faint smell of charcoal and sandalwood. Sometimes blood or dirt had joined the other smells, but Bucky could have picked Steve's scent out of a crowd with his eyes closed. 

"All right, JARVIS, let's roll," Tony dictated, a half-eaten spring roll in his hand. 

Opening credits appeared on the large screen TV that hung on the opposite wall. 

"What's the movie tonight?" Bruce asked. 

"Die Hard," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. 

"Three," Clint added. "Because the only thing that makes John McClane better is to make him team up with Samuel L. Jackson."

"Does anyone else think that guy kind of looks like Fury?" Bruce mused.

"Nah," Tony said. "Don't be racist, Brucey."

"Do we need to have seen the first two?" Steve asked. 

Tony laughed. "It's not exactly James Joyce, Cap. You'll be able to keep up."

Bucky quickly discovered that Movie Night involved much more conversation among the team than it did actually watching the film. The conversation about whether McClane would have been approached by SHIELD took up the first quarter of the movie (the final consensus was yes; SHIELD didn't care if you went rogue as long as you finished the job.) Bucky was more interested in how Steve leaned into him more and more as the movie went on, one arm coming up to rest on Bucky's shoulders. 

Steve was lazily tracing patterns on Bucky's bare right shoulder when the cops on screen began evacuating a school. Teachers urgently ushered kids outside, barely being heard over the chaos of the students' alternately frightened, excited, and bored conversations. 

A memory struck Bucky like a train. 

Shooting a gas line in a chemistry classroom to spark a panic. 

The children filing out in a mass on the front lawn. 

The teenage boy with bright red hair from the file Bucky had looked over earlier that day talking to his friends. 

Lining up the shot through the sniper's scope. 

"Bucky?" Steve's voice was just a whisper in his ear, but it brought him careening back into his own body. "You okay?"

Bucky swallowed down the hint of bile that the memory had drawn up-- who had that kid been? What had he done to draw HYDRA's attention?--and turned to Steve. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I just..." 

Steve used the arm around Bucky's shoulder to draw him closer. Bucky went willingly, resting his head on Steve's shoulder. The warmth of Steve's arm around him reminded him of the straps HYDRA had used to tie him down, except for instead of hurting and erasing him, Steve was lifting him up, comforting him. 

Steve had been a solid presence in Bucky's life since before he had this strong body. Even ten years old and sickly, Steve had been Bucky's, and Bucky had been his. He remembered his mom-- an overworked woman with too many kids-- referring to them as "SteveandBucky," never separately. She never needed to. 

Bucky may not have had his old identity or all of his memories, but he had Steve. Maybe that was enough. 

"Thanks," Bucky said, leaning up to press a swift, dry kiss to the side of Steve's neck. 

The blush that appeared on the spot he had been kissed and rushed up to his face was so immediate that when Bucky moved his head to rest it on Steve's shoulder again, it was with a smirk. 

\----

"What did you think?" Steve asked as they took the stairs up to their floor. Bucky wanted to end Lady's night on a positive note, and didn't even try to get her in the elevator again. 

Steve climbed stairs as easily as other people breathed, so he never minded the extra effort. 

"Pretty good. I'm starting to wonder why I was never programmed with a catchphrase, though."

Steve froze for a second, glanced over at him, and then burst out laughing. "That's not funny," he protested, shoving Bucky's arm. 

"It's definitely funny," Bucky argued. "You need one too. You're a team leader."

"I don't need a catchphrase," Steve said, turning to Bucky with a noble set in jaw. "I only need justice."

"Oh my God, that was awful," Bucky said, shaking his head. "It's a good thing the nation doesn't know what enormous dorks their superheroes are."

Steve opened the door for their landing and ushered them in. "I'll have you know that I was voted one of People magazine's most eligible bachelors."

"I think after ninety years of bachelorhood, you lose some status points. People start to wonder what's wrong with you."

Obviously exhausted from the socialization, Lady padded toward Bucky's room to sleep. Bucky knew the feeling. However, he couldn't draw himself away from Steve. 

Steve shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I've just been waiting for the right partner." He shook his head. "I'm glad you came tonight."

Bucky took a deep breath, steeled himself, and then pasted a cocky smirk onto his lips. "Do you want to?"

"Huh?" The blush that stained his cheeks belied Steve's attempted ignorance. 

"Do you," Bucky said, stepping forward into Steve's personal space, "want to come tonight?"

Steve put his hands on Bucky's shoulders, keeping him at arm's-length. "Bucky."

"Don't pretend you don't want it," Bucky said, a tinge of desperation leaking into his voice. Internally, he cursed himself. He needed to stay confident, stay in control of this. 

"Don't pretend you do," Steve replied.

"What--"

"You're trying to seduce me. I've seen that smirk turned on a hundred women."

Bucky frowned. "Yeah, women who I wanted to sleep with."

"I don't want to be one of them."

"Good thing you're not a woman," Bucky said, leaning forward again, but Steve held his ground. 

"This wouldn't be just sex for me." The other man met his eyes, and Bucky realized that Steve was hurt. "You're more to me than that."

"I... It wouldn't for me either," Bucky protested. "Steve, you're... Steve. I've wanted you as long as I can remember. From what I can remember. And even without that, having you here with me lately has been... It's been everything."

"Bucky, you're... You don't owe me anything."

Bucky took a step forward again, and this time Steve took a step back, putting him against the kitchen counter. "You told me I should get out of my comfort zone. That you'd have my back." He stepped forward so they were nearly pressed together. "So this is me asking something I never had the guts to ask before. You going to let me down now?"

Steve's eyes flickered to Bucky's lips and then back to his eyes. "You're sure?"

"Steve, I've loved you since you let me into this Tower, even before I got the memories back of staring at you across the dance floor while I tried to focus on dames. I don't know much about who I am, or who I'm becoming, but I know this: I love you. And--"

He didn't get a chance to finish, because Steve had leaned forward to press their lips together. For an instant, time seemed to stand still, and then Steve's hand came up to cup his face and the kiss deepened. 

Bucky hadn't been kissed since 1943. This was worth the wait. 

Steve took Bucky apart with determined efficiency, as thorough as he was intense. Bucky was lost in the press of skin and twisting of tongues, wrapping his arms around Steve's solid waist to anchor himself. 

At some point, Steve had maneuvered them around so that it was Bucky who was leaning against the kitchen counter. 

Bucky was lost in the sensations, mind floating even as Steve kept his body anchored to reality. Every brush of Steve's hands and lips were catalogued in Bucky's mind. Where he once learned target names and habits, the exact click and turn of his sniper rifle, he now was learning Steve's fingerprints, his breath, the tiny pleased noises he made when Bucky nipped at his lower lip.

Steve pulled back slightly, making Bucky open eyes he hadn't realized he had closed. Steve's face was slightly flushed, and the humor in his eyes didn't hide the intensity. When Bucky raised his eyebrows, feeling worry creeping up on him, Steve grinned with reddened lips. "That was the worst pick-up line in history. 'Do you want to come too,' oh my--"

"Shut up," Bucky growled, grabbing the back of Steve's neck and pulling him forward again, feeling the other man chuckling against his lips.

Even pressed together, they still felt too far apart. "Your room?" he panted in Steve's ear. "Now?"

Steve moved back so he could look at Bucky's face. 

"If you ask me one more time if I want this..." Bucky said, vaguely threatening. 

After one last assessing glance, Steve nodded. His gaze took on the determined, adrenaline-sharpened look he had before going into battle, and he kissed Bucky like he had a mission to overwhelm the other man. Never let it be said that Steve failed in a mission. Bucky was practically weak at the knees as Steve steered them, still kissing, to his bedroom. 

Bucky had kissed dames, and had taken them to bed. When he had imagined being with Steve (and he had imagined it, both before and after the fall), he had seen himself seducing Steve. 

Now, despite the flush on his cheeks, Steve was firmly in the lead. Bucky couldn't bring himself to complain as Steve lowered him onto the bed, covering him with his warm body. 

Bucky arched up into him, trying to get a hand down Steve's pants, but he batted him away gently, sliding down to unbuckle Bucky's pants. 

"Let me take of you. I've wanted this for so long."

The noise Bucky made at the words combined with the first brush of Steve's hand against Bucky's cloth-covered cock was embarrassingly close to a whimper. 

Once Steve freed his arousal from his underwear and ran a tongue up his length, Bucky didn't even try to stop the moans and sighs that came from his mouth. "Don't stop," he encouraged breathily. 

Steve was achingly thorough, alternating between licking and sucking while leaving no part of Bucky unattended. Bucky jerked upward instinctively with his hips when Steve swallowed him down, but Steve just rested an arm over Bucky's hips and kept him pinned to the bed while Steve worked him over. 

And damned is that wasn't nearly enough to make him come right then. 

"Steve," Bucky moaned, reaching down to tangle his hands in Steve's hair. He was as careful as he could be considering how far gone he was, but Steve didn't seem to mind, groaning and taking Bucky down even farther. "Oh god, Steve. You're so perfect, you're-- ah, I'm so close."

The sight of Steve between his legs, cheeks hollowed, lips red, and eyes locked on Bucky's, was enough to push him over the edge without warning. 

His back arched as he came, but Steve kept him hips pinned down, swallowing, and then running his tongue over the head of Bucky's cock to clean him. 

Bucky sank back onto the mattress, utterly spent. 

It took him a moment to regain his senses enough to realize that Steve was still achingly hard, practically grinding against the mattress. 

"C'mere," Bucky said, patting his stomach. 

Steve straddled him without question, and Bucky knocked his hand away to wrap his own around Steve. "Come on, Steve," he encouraged. 

The other man looked close. His face was flushed and he was panting, thrusting up into Bucky's grasp. "You're so beautiful," Bucky murmured. "Come on, come for me."

Steve's body jerked with the force of his orgasm, and Bucky milked him under he was spent. Like a puppet cut from its strings, Steve collapsed beside him, eyes bright and smile loose. 

Breathe slowing, Bucky carelessly wiped the come from his chest with the edge of the sheet, and then gave into the temptation to put his arm over Steve's chest and snuggle into him. Steve put a hand in Bucky's hair, gently stroking it. 

"That was..." Steve said. 

Bucky grinned against Steve's skin. "Mmhmm. Where did you learn to do that?" Bucky asked. Not that he was jealous of the last person who had had Steve between his legs. Not at all. Steve was silent for so long that Bucky checked his expression to make sure he was okay. "What? Oh god, tell me it wasn't an Avenger."

Steve shook his head. "I did some, ah, Googling."

"You Googled how to suck someone's brains out through the dick?" Bucky said incredulously. "Wow. I haven't been giving the Internet enough credit."

"It was okay?"

"More like mind-blowing," Bucky said. "We should have done this ages ago." He fell silent, thinking of the lost years. He and Steve still had their youth and their strength, but the passed centuries had taken their toll on them both. What would things have been like if they had done this in Brooklyn when Steve was small and Bucky was whole. "Did you...?"

"It was amazing," Steve said, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of Bucky's head. 

Falling silent, Bucky let himself relax in Steve's arms. So much had happened to them both, and neither had come out unscathed, but they were still there. Still alive. Still together. 

"You okay?" Steve asked quietly. 

"Never better," Bucky said honestly. 

Steve went silent again. 

Concerned, Bucky prompted, "You?"

Letting out a sigh that Bucky felt as much as heard, he replied in a tight voice, "I just don't want to mess this up."

"It's barely even gotten started yet," Bucky protested, pushing up to look at Steve's face. "Don't jinx us yet. I don't want to mess this up either."

"But," Steve said, voice catching, "I don't want to lose you again."

"Look, I get that I'm not the most trustworthy guy out there, but... I don't trust myself. But I trust you. And I'm not going to leave unless you throw me out the front door, and even that might not work. I'm good at hanging around places without people noticing."

Steve's voice was gentle when he said, "There are other ways to lose people." He took a shaky breath. "Finding you again after so long was... a miracle. But you had no clue who I was. It wasn't your bullets that almost killed me-- it was looking into your eyes and not seeing any recognition. I want to say that that will never happen again, and I swear I'll do everything in my power to make sure I'm right, but I also would have sworn to not let you fall back in the War. What if I push you too hard and you lose the progress you've made? Or they get their hands on you again?"

The thought of being strapped to the chair again, of having all of this wiped away again, was enough to make Bucky flinch. But Steve was warm under him, Lady had curled up close enough to the bed for Bucky to see her, and he was stronger than ever. "It could happen again," he agreed. "But you could also bring me back."

"Could I?"

"I killed Howard Stark," Bucky told him quietly. Steve already knew, but they hadn't talked about it since the discovery. "I saw him, killed him and his wife, and made it look like an accident. I never even hesitated. I worked beside him for months, and there wasn't a single bit of recognition in me. 

"But you, from that first meeting, you got under my skin. I knew I had seen you before. They had programmed me to fight, but the programming to protect you is in my DNA. The conflict hurt. I hadn't had a thought in decades, and you were a glitch I needed to eliminate. But I couldn't. I don't think I ever could." 

Steve's grip on him tightened, holding him firmly. "I love you," he whispered into Bucky's hair. 

Bucky sank into his grip, closing his eyes. "I love you, too." Sleeping with Lady had been enough to keep the worst nightmares at bay, but he felt like he could take on the world with Steve at his side. 

\---

"This was a terrible idea," Tony declared, looking around. "Look at this. Whose idea was this?"

"My idea," Steve said, nudging Tony. "Come on. Let's go grab some credits before the line gets too long."

Coney Island was crowded at every time of year, packed with New Yorkers looking for a break and out-of-towners searching for a classic experience. The smell of the ocean was overshadowed by the scent of hot asphalt and grilling hot dogs. There were people all around, but with Steve on one side and Lady on the other, wearing her new Stark-designed collar, Bucky was able to breathe. 

Bringing the Avengers down to Coney Island on the N train had been a memorable experience on its own. Thor's sheer enthusiasm for the trip wasn't enough to keep Bruce from sitting silently in the corner of the car for the entire trip, or to stop Clint and Tony from making a racket. For as obvious a group as they were, no one seemed to expect all the Avengers out at once in baseball caps and muscle tees, and they barely got a second glance. 

"You know where there's a good theme park?" Tony groused. "Denmark. Oldest one in the world. Plus, it's not a New York summer over there."

"We're not flying to Scandanavia to go to a theme park," Steve chided as they reached the front of the ticket line. "Coney Island is a Brooklyn tradition."

"Brooklyn's overrated," Natasha said, earning her glares from Clint, Steve, and Bucky. "Just saying."

Once they has their credits, the team split up. Tony and Bruce headed for the Ferris wheel, while Natasha and Clint dragged Thor along to play the carnival games. With Clint's inside knowledge, Thor's strength, and their combined skills, Bucky fully expected them to leave with a dozen prizes. 

"You remember coming here?" Steve asked. 

Bucky looked around, comparing the landscape to his memories. Finally, he nodded. "We rode the roller coaster."

"You made me."

"Steve, I may not remember the circumstances, but I know you. No one 'made' you do anything. And you've been an adrenaline junkie since day one." With Lady in tow, they couldn't ride most of the rides, so they got in line to buy hot dogs. 

Steve shrugged. "I may have let you talk me into things occasionally," he admitted. 

Bucky bumped him with his shoulder. "Does anyone fall for that innocent act?"

Grinning, Steve said, "Most people. It's a side-effect of being Captain America."

Shaking his head, Bucky said, "Someone needs to call you out on your bullshit so you don't actually turn into apple pie. You're already nice enough as it is-- no reason to exacerbate it by taking away your sass." He sighed, patting Lady's head thoughtfully. "I don't know how you survived without me taking you down a few pegs."

"Not very well," Steve said, catching his gaze. He leaned in for a kiss. It was no more than a brush of the lips, and Bucky leaned forward after it ended, hungry for me. Steve obliged, and nipped his bottom lip before deepening the kiss. 

Someone awkwardly cleared their throat, and the two men broke apart. "Um, orders?" the girl at the cash register prompted. The line had disappeared while they were lost in their own world. 

Steve turned red and gave her an embarrassed smile that made her visibly melt. Once they had collected their hot dogs and cotton candy, they made their way to a bench that looked over the beach and ocean beyond.

Bucky took a bite of the cotton candy first, unable to resist the wispy pink sugar as it moved with the breeze. 

“Isn’t Lady afraid of cotton candy? That was one of her phobias,” Steve pointed out.

Bucky glanced down at Lady, who was sprawled over his feet. She blinked up at him lazily, and then put her head down. 

Turning back to Steve, Bucky said, “Maybe things don’t seem as scary now when she’s here with us.” 

Steve put his free arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “I know the feeling.”

The sun was bright overhead, the sea was sparkling, and he had two loyal companions at his side. After all the ice in his past, Bucky was finally feeling warmth again.


End file.
